Sorrow To Suprise!

All week long, (starting last Monday) I had been in the worst mood ever. And, I am not just talking hitting my arm, and falling on my face. I am talking about being in tears everyday, always bumping into things, bad moods at every hour of the day. Now, that's what I am talking about!

Everything that could go wrong, was going wrong. I was beyond over powered by homework, I was behind on my research project, and I was assigned waaaaaaaay to many pages to read for just one night. On top of the school work, I had softball every single day, and because of that I didn't get home at a reasonable time. I would be up for countless hours finishing homework, and then get ready for bed. On some nights, I would notice as my head hit my pillow, that I was getting in bed at such an absurd times such as 12:30! I have NEVER, EVER gone to bed that late on a school night before. On Thursday, I felt like such a bad kid, I couldn't even fall asleep. I'm just a really, really bad kid...what can I say?

Anyways, after my bad week at school ended, I had the weekend to catch up on all my homework, and that is exactly what I did. I stayed in my room for eight hours straight, (minus bathroom breaks, and a little snack here and there), on Saturday and did my homework. THEN I was thinking that I had the rest of the weekend to finish my homework so I decided to take a break, BUT I forgot my friend asked me to go to the mall with her.

In a frantic, I woke up early Sunday morning to get the rest of my work done. I spent an additional three hours on my homework, and then I looked at my clock and noticed it was 12:30, and my friend was picking me up at 1:30 for the mall. Thinking about how much work I still had to get done, I almost cancelled on my friend, but I didn't.

When I was finally ready, I was waiting outside for my friend to pick me up. I see a few cars pass by, and get excited, but, it wasn't her. Then, out of nowhere, a limo bus comes driving down my street, and I did a double take. I look at my mom, who is now smiling uncontrollably, and I see all my friends running at me.

The limo bus took my friends and I to Niagara Falls, Kelly's Country Store, Mississippi Mudds, and Blasdell Pizza. It was THE best birthday party I have ever had.


It turns out that I have one of the best mothers EVER. To anyone who thinks they can compete against my mother, let me know, and we will arrange a challenge. She. Is. Better.

Thank you to everyone who helped out with planning, and keeping it a secret from me. It really was the best surprise of my life!

Extreme Writer's Block; A Disease, OR A Crime?

Hello. Yes, this is Amanda Mohler. I know exactly what you are thinking, you probably thought I dropped off the face of the earth or something crazy that would cause me not to write. I have gotten a lot of "Where are the blogs?!?" and "I keep checking, but, nothing is there!". To everyone who has addressed me in the past two months, I am sorry. I am going to try to keep writing during my insane life. Well, at least I will try!

I needed a way to show people that I was still alive, and just not writing blogs because of my severe case of writer's block. (It sounds like a short term medical problem) I am healthy! Just to be clear!

I promise I am going to start writing again, it is just hard between my school work, and softball, which is taking over my life! BUT, I love it. Absolutely LOVE it.

Ummm, nothing "blog material" has happened to me today, so I am going to ummmmmm, give you the forecast! Sounds like a perfectly good idea! It has BEAUTIOUS outside! If you haven't noticed, you might need to get out from underneath your rock. Go outside and get some nice fresh air, and a nice golden tan, because it will most likely snow tomorrow.

Well, I am going to stop writing because this is really unnecessary. I just wanted everyone to know I was still alive. :)

Blog you later!

Wait, You Are HOW Old?

Ashley is my little sister. Keyword: little.

I had many different names for this blog picked out, such as, Times Have Changed, OR, Eleven Going On Sixteen. But, I think the one I picked suites this blog nicely.

Anyways. Tonight I had the pleasure of going with my dad to pick up my sister and her friends from their "Crazy Friday Night Party". Actually, it was at an ice skating rink, but it was packed just like a party. When I walked in, I was expecting a sign out sheet, maybe a few friendly snacks, and a nice circle of middle schooler's singing songs. I now learned to not set my expectations so high. There were kids EVERYWHERE. Girls hanging off of boys, a few hugs in the mix, annnnnd,m one boy had his arm around another girls neck. The kids, well the word "kids" is not suited here. The kids-who-think-they-are-teenagers, were not in a circle singing songs, they were all in little clicks chatting away. The juice boxes they should have been drinking were substituted in with Red Bulls, and the sign out sheet was nowhere to be found. I thought I was in a club.

Some of the girls in this "club" were dressed in very tight, skinny jeans and sparkly boots. They had V-necks that met their bellybuttons, and jewelry that was a bit too flashy. First of all, when I was their age, overalls were the coolest thing. EVER. Second, my favorite shirt had a pony on it, not the words "Hollister".

When I walked in to this so called "ice skating rink", my sister and her friends were talking to boys! BOYS! As in males. Yes, I know exactly what you are thinking. "At their age?!?" I know, I know. Ashley always comes home and tells me scandalous stories about the people in her classes, relationships. "Oh, well so-and-so broke up with him because she wasn't in the same second period class." Or, "Yeah, they broke up. It's no biggie, she got a new boy." This is middle school, yes I know. And, yes, I am baffled too.

As I was bending over to take off my shoes when we got home, I slowly raised and looked up to a 5'6" girl. Now, me being 5'4", I was shocked. I keep telling myself I am going to grow in many ways, but I know I am not going to. This girl was tall, and very "chesty", if you know what I mean. I immediately rolled my eyes, and walked into the kitchen. Stop eating whatever you middles schooler's are eating, or give me some! I need to grow!

After that incident, I walked into the kitchen to get a drink. For some odd reason, they all followed me like I was their master. They were all staring at me with wide open eyes, which made me notice one girls eyes were very dark. "Are you wearing....MAKEUP?!?" What is happening? Does anyone else feel alarmed about this? I don't even wear makeup, and a sixth grader is? What. The. Heck. If they are only four years younger than me, then in four more years, second graders will be wearing makeup. And, then in the year twenty-thirty, preschoolers will be wearing makeup! It's basic math, and logic.

Ashley is my little sister. And, now she is my closely watched, little sister. Keyword: closely watched.

Papa-Paparazzi.

The other day while I waited in line to be cashed out at Walmart, I stumbled upon the magazine rack. Every time I am waiting in line, I always take a quick look to see what is going on in the "Celeb" world. As I look through, I notice that my favorite actress was faking a pregnancy, Lindsay Lohan is in jail, again, and my favorite celebrity couple is going through marrige "differences".

After reading all the juicy and personal details about the celebrities, I flip through the pages past the advertisements and the clothing of the year. I come to a stop at the section titled, "They are JUST like us!".

There, you see a picture of Justin Bieber getting pulled over, Lady Gaga tying her own shoe, and Taylor Swift steeping out of her front door. Oh. Em. Gee. They are just like us?!? That's absurd! After you get over how "they" are just normal people, you see pictures of Jennifer Aniston through her front window, making coffee.

As I stood in the middle of a check out line, looking at the celebrities only one thing crossed my mind.
"What would happen if paparazzi was taking pictures through my front window? What if TMZ really saw what happened in the four walls that keep me safe?"

That would be a problem.

I could see it now. My family would make the front page of every magazine in the check out line. People would be wondering why my little sister was standing on top of a table, beating on her chest like a monkey. Or, why my dad was running around the house screaming.

The article about us would be long, maybe a four pager. People would look at pictures of us all laying on the living room floor wrestling, or playing a heated game of Monopoly. They would be amused by the pictures of us all throwing pillows at each other, or how my little sister is on top of me. The next page would be about how my dog would rather have a treat over sitting and staying. Under that would be a picture of my dad chasing my sister and I around the dinner table with a spatula. People would laugh at our embarrassing pictures.

TMZ would make a fortune just on one family, alone. They would already have titles picked out for the articles to come such as, "The family who clearly has issues.". Or, "You thought your family was weird? Read this article!"

Readers would be amused by the pictures of me dancing and singing around the house. Or, the occasional "attempt" of the worm by my dad.

After thinking about this, I will no longer be looking at the "They are JUST like us!" page. I will keep my head down, and just nonchalantly pass my mom the groceries. I am glad I am not famous.

Blank My Dad Says.

As I was thinking about this blog overtime, it came to my attention that my title is a television show. Except the word "Blank" is substituted in for the word, well, you probably know what it is. And, NO! I will not say it.

Anyways.

The that CBS television show is about a struggling writer and blogger, can no longer afford his rent, so, he is forced to move back in with his father. As time goes on, the son can not focus with all the (insert bad word here) he says. This reminds me of my life.

My dad is a great man. He is brave, stylish, and very random. He says things one couldn't think of saying. Just like men, sometimes he acts up, which results him into becoming an eleven year old again. But, I am okay with that because 1. He says the funniest things. 2. All my friends are, like in love with him. And, 3. Well, he acts like a crazy person, and I like that!

Sometimes he says things like, "You young Whipper-snappers are just crazy with all your hip lingo. What exactly are you saying? It's just a mixture of random letters, BRB TTYL G2G. What? Can't you just say be right back, or talk to you later?"

Sometimes he will send me random pictures of things throughout the day with a message like, "I saw this car, and I thought of you immediately.". That message came with a picture of an ice cream truck. Like I said, he is RANDOM!

Sometimes my mom will say "Oh, I have to Whatchamacallit" and then my dad will answer with, "Ewwwww, that sounds gross!" Or, "Oh, my, gosh! That sounds like fun! Can I come along?"

Sometimes I will be in the worst mood, and he will "attempt" to cheer me up by telling jokes like, "Do you know why the chicken crossed the road?". I will answer, muttering "Why, dad?". And, then he just won't answer, or he will say something idiotic like "Because he did, stop nagging me!".

These are just some "Blanks" my dad says on a day to day basis. I'm not a writer who can't afford her rent, but I'd I was, I would probably ask a friend if I could live with them. If they question me about why I am not living with my parents, I will say "Because of the Blanks my dad says".

The Hostess With The Mostess.

Did you hear that the company Hostess filed for bankruptcy? Well unfortunately, it is true.

Today my mom was "The Hostess With The Mostess".

Our family friends were over today, which is always a blast for my sister and I because they are boys. They play "ruff", they are not afraid to slap shot on girls during a heated game of mini sticks, and the best part, they eat A TON! On that note, my mom had to make sure we had enough food for lunch. She ordered out from a place called Page's Paradise Island. For those who don't know what the "Paradise" holds, I can sum it up for you. Page's is a children's place. It has an indoor pool in it, a arcade room, lasertron, and a rock wall. It sounds fun, but believe me, it smells like sweat and chlorine from the second you walk in, until you decide to leave. (Which, by the smell, will be very soon.) There are little kids running around barefoot, dripping water everywhere. It is just a fiasco. (Vocab word!)

The only reason why we decided to order from there is because my neighbor generously gave my sister and I gift cards for helping him. My mom thought it would be a good idea to buy takeout with them, instead of using them to go inside and embark on that journey.

When my mom was gone for almost an hour, I wondered what she was doing. But, to my surprise, she was taking a journey into the Hostess store. When she came home she told us the whole story about how the worker named Nancy was just handing her things for cheap prices.

"Nancy just kept putting things in my cart, telling me offers I couldn't refuse!"

Long story, short. My mom came home with four boxes of strudels, five boxes of pies, two boxes of cupcakes, one box of Twinkies, four boxes of Zingers, four loafs of bread, four boxes of doughnuts, and some small individually wrapped goodies that Nancy kept throwing into her cart. Talk about a lot of sweets. After us kids cleaned up our drool that was falling from our opened mouths, we quickly picked out what dessert we wanted and indulged ourselves into a Hostess adventure.

Today, my mom truly was The Hostess With The Mostess.

To Be Continued.

The three words I dread to hear. "To Be Continued". Those three words are the reason I stayed on my couch for an extra hour today. They are the reason my chores didn't get done on time. THEY are the reason why my bladder was full, for two and a half hours!

Every now-and-then, a show will have an amazing plot that you get caught up in, and then you notice that there are only five minutes left. You freak out, and then ask yourself, "What's going to happen to her? Is he going to die?! They CANNOT get back together!". You think about how in the world the show is going to squeeze in forty-five minutes of information needed to finish your show. And then, as the time expires, those three words pop up.

"To Be Continued"

Sometimes the words appear on an all black screen, with a great, stylish choice of font. OR, they will show up on a cell phone the main character that you care so much about, is holding. Those three words always come as a surprise, especially when it is not wanted.

The couple who you had hoped would make it, is now fighting. The curious wife, finally found her husband with another woman. There was a complication in a very important surgery. Annnnnnnnnd, TO BE CONTINUED! It is extremely annoying, especially if you get really into your shows, like I do. The show seems like it is ending well, and then everything hits the screen like a 3D movie. It's chaotic! Things are happening left and right. A fire broke out at one house, and then down the road, a dead body was found. The story line was failed to be finished, and the girl you had hoped escaped out of the fire, was shown in the last scene laying on the floor. Then, To Be Continued. It ruins everything.

Then, after you piece yourself back together from what had just happened, you press the play button to continue the continued. (That sounds really confusing) When the "To Be Continued" episode begins, it shows the scene that made you heart race. It shows the same people, in the same positions like nothing had been changed. It shows the couple who were fighting, resolve their problems. The wife filing for a divorce. And, how the patient who was told their surgery was a routine surgery, is now undergoing several other surgeries, but this time not so routine.

Those three words were the reason why my couch had my butt imprinted on the cushion. The reason why I was sprinting to the bathroom when the show was over. And why I got in trouble for not finishing the dishwasher.

When my mom asked why the dishwasher wasn't done today I replied with, "Well, it's..."

To Be Continued.